Misfits on the Run
The Hellstorm streaked through the dense asteroid field, its battered hull scorched from the last skirmish. Inside, the crew of the Zone Warriors shouted over the alarms. Tyko Rinn, the hot-headed pilot, wrestled with the controls.
“Drake, you wanna tell me why we’re getting shot at by three Syndicate warships?” Tyko growled, jerking the ship into a sharp dive as plasma fire ripped past the cockpit.
Drake Vance, the cocky captain lounging in the command chair, smirked. “Because we stole their starfuel. You’re welcome.”
Tessa Vorn, the explosives expert, let out a manic laugh. “We’re gonna blow them to bits, right? Tell me we’re blowing them to bits!”
“Focus!” shouted Kiera Solari, the sharpshooter. “If Tyko doesn’t get us out of here, there won’t be bits left to blow.”
It was just another day for the Zone Warriors. They were a crew of renegades united by chance and bound by loyalty. They were infamous for taking impossible jobs to defend the underdog. But before they became legends, they were just misfits trying to survive.
The Captain and the Pilot
Drake Vance was born on Pryon IX, a smog-choked industrial planet where survival was a daily battle. He grew up hustling in the orbital scrapyards, running cons and piloting stolen freighters through asteroid belts for sport. By the time he was twenty, he had built a reputation as a daredevil smuggler. He had a silver tongue and a knack for escaping trouble.
It was on Pryon IX that Drake met Tyko Rinn. Tyko was a brash and reckless pilot from the storm-wracked planet Aureon. He had come to Pryon looking for work. He found himself in a bar brawl with some local thugs. Drake, impressed by Tyko’s fighting skills and equally reckless attitude, stepped in to help.
“You fight like an idiot,” Drake said afterward, wiping blood from his knuckles.
“And you talk like one,” Tyko shot back.
They bonded instantly. When Drake needed a pilot for a smuggling job, Tyko was the obvious choice. Together, they pulled off increasingly daring heists, earning both fame and enemies across the galaxy.
The Gladiator and the Explosives Expert
Zarek Thorr was a hulking reptilian warrior from Gornath Prime. He spent years as a gladiator in the blood-soaked arenas of his swampy homeworld. A natural fighter, Zarek had earned his freedom through sheer brutality, but he’d grown weary of killing for sport.
Drake and Tyko met Zarek on Haven Station, a seedy hub for smugglers and mercenaries. Bounty hunters were pursuing them. They stumbled into an underground fighting ring. There, Zarek was battling three opponents at once.
“Think he’d help us?” Tyko asked, nodding toward the towering reptilian.
Drake grinned. “Only one way to find out.”
They helped Zarek win the fight by tossing a few improvised explosives into the mix. Then, they recruited him as their muscle. Zarek, tired of the arena, agreed on one condition: no senseless killing.
Shortly after, they encountered Tessa Vorn on the desert planet Tanis VI. Tessa, a fiery redhead with a penchant for chaos, was an explosives expert working as a miner. She joined them after blowing up a corporate convoy that had been exploiting her colony, earning the crew’s respect—and wariness.
“If it doesn’t explode,” she liked to say, “what’s the point?”
The Sharpshooter and the Hacker
Kiera Solari, the crew’s sharpshooter, came from the shattered moons of Zeroth V. It was a failed colony that left its survivors scavenging to survive. Kiera had an accident during a scavenging mission. She replaced her right arm and both legs with cybernetic augmentations. This transformation turned her body into a weapon.
She crossed paths with the crew when they tried to outbid her on a bounty. The standoff ended in a draw, with both sides reluctantly agreeing to work together to take down a common enemy. By the end of the mission, Kiera had decided she liked them—though she’d never admit it outright.
Rax Drellon, the crew’s tech wizard, hailed from Mechronis, a machine world ruled by rogue AIs. Raised by sentient androids, Rax had a unique perspective on technology and a sarcastic wit that grated on everyone’s nerves.
Drake hired Rax after a botched heist left the crew stranded with a disabled ship. Rax not only repaired the Hellstorm but upgraded its systems with stolen Syndicate tech.
“I fixed your junk,” Rax had said, smirking. “Now pay me or let me join. Your choice.”
The Assassin and the Psychic
Mira Zan, a former assassin from the shadowed domes of Nyx-3, was the last to join the crew. Quiet and lethal, Mira had fled her former masters and sought refuge on Haven Station. She initially clashed with the crew. However, she proved her loyalty during a Syndicate ambush. She saved Drake’s life with her twin plasma blades.
“I’m not here to make friends,” she told them. “But I’ll fight for you if you’ll have me.”
Jarek Ve’Lar, an exiled prince from the oceanic world of Velarion, joined shortly after. A telepath with a sharp mind and a sharper blade, Jarek brought strategy and refinement to the chaotic crew.
His exile stemmed from a failed coup against his tyrannical father. The Zone Warriors found him in a rundown cantina, drowning his sorrows in cheap alcohol. Drake saw potential in Jarek and offered him a place on the team.
“Royalty, huh?” Drake said, grinning. “Bet you’ll love working with us.”
United in Chaos
The Zone Warriors came together out of necessity, but they stayed together out of loyalty. They dismantled pirate fleets. They toppled despots. They became the galaxy’s most infamous mercenaries—fearless, ruthless, and always on the side of the underdog.
Their patched-together ship, the Hellstorm, became their home, its battle-scarred hull a testament to their countless adventures. Inside, they bickered, laughed, and fought like family. They were united by a shared purpose. Their goal was to make the galaxy a little less terrible—one explosive, sarcastic mission at a time.
In the vast, chaotic universe, the Zone Warriors stood as the last line of defense. They fought for those who had no one else to protect them.
And they wouldn’t have it any other way.
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